Jean Lorrah - Wulfston's odyssey

Wulfston realized. “He can’t hold you long, so he’s trying to force my hand. Lenardo, I’ll get there as soon as I can. Don’t try to escape on your own. Although you re conspicuous in Africa, I don’t want to have to hunt for you. I’m not that good a Reader yet.”

“You don’t think I could track you down?” Lenardo asked with mild amusement.

“Of course you could, but why complicate matters? Let me come to you. Once the two of us are in the same place, no one in Africa can stand against us!”

Lenardo agreed. “But Wulfston, if you were a trained Reader, I would not have been able to waken you today.”

“Why? Oh-I remember. Readers are not supposed to Read while they’re asleep so they won’t intrude on anyone or broadcast anything.” A prickle of fear went through him. “What am I going to do? I have to sleep!”

“Aradia automatically braces her Adept powers when she sleeps,” said Lenardo. “Apparently you don’t have the same instinct, but cant you do it consciously?”

“Yes,” Wulfston replied in relief. But what of all the time he had slept, drugged and undrugged, since his Reading had begun, all the strange dreams, the fragments of thoughts and memories? Who could tell what Seers might have been listening in?

When Lenardo withdrew, Wulfston got up and dressed, testing both his Adept and his Reading powers.

He felt normal. In fact, he felt positively good. There were no guards on his room, but the castle was battle-ready. It was exhilarating not to have to leave his room to discover that; he could Read into every part of the castle, out into the courtyard, and to the city beyond. He didn’t “see” what he Read, but sensed it in a way he could not have explained in words.

Having “seen” the visions produced by Norgu and Barak, he now understood the difference between ordinary Reading an what the Readers called “visualization,” a higher-order skill. He wondered if he would ever develop that, or would always be dependent on a better Reader for visualization.

Interesting that in Africa the word for Reader meant “Seer.” He must ask Tadisha whether that meant that the ability to visualize was what distinguished someone with minor powers from someone who might command respect- and power.

At the thought of Tadisha, he Read her room, but it was empty. His conscience prodded him: Readers observed strict rules of privacy. The problem was, not having been a Reader before, he had never learned them! However, he chided himself, Reading into people’s private rooms was certainly forbidden except in an emergency.

Restricting himself to the public rooms of the castle, he found Tadisha in a small dining room off the kitchen, Traylo and Arlus on either side of her, begging for tidbits. “Tadisha?”

“Lord Wulfston,” she acknowledged. “Won’t you join me? I woke up as hungry as a Mover!”

So had he, so he hurried down the stairs. “Your Seeing powers are back.”

“Not yet back to normal, but returning,” she told him.

When Wulfston entered the dining room, Traylo and Arlus came running to meet him, fawning on him as if they had been waiting desperately for his appearance rather than perfectly content with Tadisha.

The Karili princess looked tired, her eyes puffy as if she still needed sleep. She was wearing a silk caftan in shades of green and tan, and her hair was tied back with a scarf of the same material.

She was eating bread and fruit, but only picking at a savory stew whose aroma had Wulfston’s mouth watering. “You need the meat,” he told her. “The weakness of your body will blunt your Seeing more than meat will. After your strength returns you can go back to eating like a rabbit if you want to.” He followed his own advice, helping himself to a liberal portion of the stew. “How are your mother and Barak?”

“Still healing,” she replied. “Our scouts confirm what Norgu showed us of the Savishnon-they are ready to move. The members of the Assembly are returning to their own lands to ready their armies.”

“And that is why you are up,” Wulfston observed. “It’s all your responsibility until your mother is well.”

He was painfully reminded of Aradia taking over rule of their lands, when their father slid inexorably into coma.

“Yes,” Tadisha replied simply.

“Let Kamas do it,” said Wulfston. “Where is he?”

“Still sleeping. He did not go to bed until he had verified that no one was coming to attack us in our vulnerable state.”

“If it’s safe for Kamas to sleep, then it’s safe for you. You should have had your meal brought to you, Tadisha, and gone right back to sleep.”

“I know that now, she replied wearily. “I wouldn’t be much good to anyone”- a yawn interrupted her words — “as tired as I still am.”

But before Tadisha could find the energy to leave the table, Kamas joined them. He wa? tense, but otherwise restored, for he had neither been injured nor used Adept powers. “Our healers commend your skill, Lord Wulfston. How is it that a warrior is trained in healing?”

“Isn’t that the custom here?” Wulfston asked. “At home, the most powerful Adepts are also the best healers.”

“It makes a Mover popular with the people, but it also weakens his powers. You Saw what happened to Norgu’s father.”

Wulfston smiled sadly. “Unfortunately, most Lords Adept in the Savage Lands felt as you do before our Alliance. We can only hope that the future proves our ways right.”

Before he allowed himself to fall asleep that night, Wulfston braced his Adept powers as Lenardo had suggested. If he dreamed, he did not remember it, and in the morning he woke with the sun, refreshed and eager to act.

He would not invade anyone’s privacy this morning, so he assumed that Tadisha and Kamas were still sleeping until a servant came to him. “Queen Ashuru is awake, and is consulting with Princess Tadisha and Prince Kamas. She requests that you join them.”

Ashuru might be awake, but she was far from well. The superficial burns had healed to skin of a reddish-pink. If left to heal naturally now, with no further Adept stimulus, it would regain its normal color in a few weeks without scarring.

The worst of Ashuru’s injuries, though, did not show; she had not left her bed because she could not.

Nerves along her spine had been seared. She had little feeling in her legs, and could move her arms only with effort. One of the healers was trying to persuade her to be put back into healing sleep again. “Please, Queen Ashuru-the sooner this kind of injury is healed, the better your chances for complete recovery.”

But Ashuru waved the healer aside. “Soon, soon;” she promised. “First we must make plans. Lord Wulfston, do you understand what happened in the temple?”

“Z’Nelia entered Tadisha’s body while she was out of it,” Wulfston replied.

The older woman nodded. “Thank Shangonu, not even a sabenu can command a Seer’s body once the Seer returns to it. And despite all, my daughter succeeded in her quest.”

Tadisha’s Vision! Wulfston had completely forgotten it.

Tadisha looked much better today, rested and healthy. “Lord Wulfston,” she said formally, “we can no longer blame you for bringing trouble upon us, for it is Shangonu’s will that you be here, now, when Savishna rises and Z Nelia seeks power. I had a True Vision:

“The Savishnon will move inexorably toward the east. Since there is no longer a way directly from their lands to

Z’Nelia’s, they will pass through our lands and Norgu’s first, destroying as they go. If we mass our armies and deploy our powers against them, we can hold them to the north-for now.”

“Why is there no way from the Savishnon lands into Z’Nelia’s?” asked Wulfston.